


This Is The Straw

by 1sabella



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-14
Updated: 2012-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 03:38:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1sabella/pseuds/1sabella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's only so much an intelligent man can take.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is The Straw

**Author's Note:**

> Born out of a thought about why John isn't an idiot at all, because he's a bloody doctor and all that. Probably set after ASiP and BB, at a point before they become besties, when John still gets a little bit rankled at being called stupid (incessantly and in a variety of ways).

Sometimes people talk about straws in relation to camels. Generally they don't have all that much to do with each other, but once in a while, an inconveniently placed straw will place aforesaid animal at a considerable disadvantage in terms of spinal health. John Watson is one such camel. And somewhat appropriately, Sherlock Holmes is the final straw.

"Sherlock. Listen to me, listen now, and listen properly because I will NOT be saying this again. Save it in your mind bungalow or whatever the hell you're using today - it's probably a blasted wendy-house from the way you've been behaving. You know my name, don't you? And my title? And of course, you know my rank and my regiment and my classification from the RAMC and every bloody thing about me. Now, what was it I said when we first met? Ah yes, I remember. No need to interrupt, git features."

"John-"

"I believe I said something along the lines of "bit different from my day", yes?"

"Indeed, but-"

"Rhetorical question, twinkletoes. Let's see if we can work together to remember what sort of student trains at St Bart's..."

"For the sake of-"

"OH!" 

This last word is said in the style of a beloved flatmate and positive saint, complete with a hop and a skip and a jump. It's not taking the piss at all.

The camel, unimpeded by his injured spine, begins to pace back and forth on the hearth whilst he holds forth. The straw glares from his vantage point on the sofa and listens, albeit unwillingly.

"I know! Medical students, because it's the "Medical College of St Bartholomew's Hospital", or it was then. Now, what can we deduce about this - seeing as we've worked together thus far, why don't you tell me how easy you think it is to get into medical school?"

"I'm not going to rise to-"

"Wait, I have it! It's REALLY BLOODY DIFFICULT. It's nigh impossible now, and not much better when I applied. I had to be the most overachieving, hard working and diligent swot you've ever seen, and I had to do that for years, and as a result I am very good at what I do. So believe me when I say that there's a reason the name John Hamish Watson is preceded by the title Doctor-"

"Honestly, John, I'm perfectly aware of all this-"

"Sherlock. Please, for the love of tea and jam and all that's sacred in this world, hear me out."

"Well, I..."

A staring contest begins and is over all too quickly.

"As I was saying... There's a reason I'm called 'Doctor', and I'd appreciate it if you remembered, even once in a while, that whilst I may not have all the smartarse lightening-quick intelligence of the Holmeses of this world, I should be credited with a little bit more brainpower than the likes of our beloved Anderson. Any questions?"

Apparently a good old rant can do just as much good for a broken back as casts and surgery and bed rest and physiotherapy.

"Message recieved and understood, 'Captain'." 

"No need to get sarky with me, grumpy-drawers. Not my fault that you can't keep a civil tongue in your head. I didn't even mention my personal wit and charm, or my many talents, or-"

John is cut off by a well-aimed pillow to the face. Fisticuffs do not quite ensue, but it's a close-run thing.

**Author's Note:**

> This was started, and written in part, on a note app on my phone on a long bus journey, so it has not been beta-d or looked over in depth. Also it's my first *ever* fic so please accept my apologies for any inaccuracies, mistakes, errors etc. Cheers m'dears! Comment about any glaring rubbish, and tell me about OOC-ness because that was my main problem with this.


End file.
